Building the bridge

Finding the way to that delicious flow state writers so often seek.

Pot of tea, two slices of brown toast, butter and marmalade, in my favourite garden centre cafe and now I had paper. I’d managed to bring my own pen but in my rush had forgotten to pick up a notebook. I’d been scouting the garden centre for some one-sided A4 information leaflets, the ones that tell you how to grow cacti. I thought I could write on the back of them. None were available and I decided to ask - for paper. The sales assistant was trying to sell me another notebook. I have many notebooks and I was reluctant to buy more, then a kind man offered some of his pad. I could write now.

I’d been struggling to write this blog and as I buttered my toast and poured my tea, I felt a prickling behind my eyes. Nothing came but I sat with the feeling for a while. I was sad and upset.

Although it was only 9:30 am, a lot had happened already that day. I’d left my role as an after school science instructor, which is a good thing for me, but I was feeling a sense of loss. I was fond of the children and loved their excitement when yesterday they successfully built their bridges! I might add much faster than I did when I practiced. Maybe they did have a few hints! Also Mum used to love visiting that garden centre, having a flat white and sharing a cake.

A Roman Arch bridge

I wrote all of the above and much more. It felt rambling.

Then the fog cleared. Sometimes you just have to write and write until eventually you get to what it is you really want to say.

You see, I wanted to write about finding your true, authentic voice. That unique, untamed, unashamed part of you, your soul. I facilitate ‘Wild voice’ writing sessions that help access your embodied soul. The writing that comes is uncensored, it's true, it's beautiful and it's deeply resonant. It flows.

In the sessions we access that part of us through a meditative visualisation, allowing the tiny whispers of our bodies to come through. It occurred to me this morning that I’ve been shutting down that part of me. I couldn’t write because I couldn’t seem to make sense of my ideas. I was head butting a conflict

I iknow that leading a writer’s life isn’t just about moving into a floaty ethereal plane, where you receive downloads and you are simply a conduit to allow the words to settle on the page. Sometimes this happens - mostly times when you are relaxed and have space but most of the time writing isn’t like this. I know this. I tell my clients that if you are serious, it has to be a habit. It’s about showing up every day ready to have a go - even if you write just one sentence.. It means reading a lot, learning your craft and honing your skills. It’s work.

Somehow these two aspects had seemed to me to be conflicted, disparate. Then I realised they are not, they are simply different ways of accessing your true voice. Just the writing route is more long-winded, awkward, stilted, but eventually you find your way through the fog and the words start to flow. This is why Julia Cameron in Artists Way advocates writing morning pages practice. This is stream of consciousness writing. It clears the detritus and unblocks the pipe.

It’s all practice. 

• Practise - pausing, following your breathe and connecting with your body.

• Practise - writing and writing, keeping going.

• Changing your environment and being intentional.

I hope your writing flows easily, but if it’s not I’m happy to help.